


What Love Means

by X_The_Unicorn



Series: MCYT classical musicians au [4]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Family Issues, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, i'm terribly sorry about that, sort of...?, there's more comfort than hurt tbh, this is actually mainly projection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27248368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/X_The_Unicorn/pseuds/X_The_Unicorn
Summary: To some extent, Sapnap would say he doesn't believe in love.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), I'LL BREAK YOUR KNEECAPS IF YOU SHIP THEM ROMANTICALLY, no - Relationship
Series: MCYT classical musicians au [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931692
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	What Love Means

**Author's Note:**

> I finally came around to write a Sapnap centric one! And I finally FINALLY came around to write a Dream Team centric one!!!! It's been around a week since I wanted to write something, but it's around yesterday that it came to me what exactly I want to write.
> 
> Trigger warning for family issues (infidelity), and I guess some sort of cold violence is involved? Nothing is physical here and because it's my personal experience and trauma that took a long time to process, I try to put it as non descriptive as possible.
> 
> Enjoy!

To some extent, Sapnap would say he doesn’t believe in love.

Okay, maybe not all love are fake. Not all feelings of attraction are fake. The pull he felt towards the piano definitely isn’t fake. He still remembers the first time he placed a hand on the black and white keys, the electrical feeling that shot up his spine when he pressed a finger down. The feeling swirls and twirls into something beautiful, something that even he himself is not sure whether he deserves to feel like that at all.

Maybe he did believe in love, once upon a time.

He remembers the first time he meekly mentioned to his parents that he wanted piano lessons. They shot one loving look at each other and gently placed their hands on his shoulder and the top of his head. Their eyes shone with warmth, and Sapnap knew he was through. They brought him to a music school the day after, and the rest was history.

Maybe that was indeed love, he thinks. He remembers the days the family would spend their time out at the nearby park, a picnic basket laying open next to a piece of picnic mat, a butterfly stopping on a flower near him. He remembers long road trips through places he had never been before, the laughs in the enclosed space, the streetlights that rushed backwards as the car moved forwards. He remembers the aroma of fried chicken in the fast food outlet near his house, the small figurines given out with kid meals making some sort of electronic noise on the table, and someone trying to feed him French fries from the side. Those memories still bring a smile to his face, now and then.

It was the end of sixth grade. His elementary school planned a graduation trip, his very first trip without his parents. The memory of it was blurry, but he remembered having a blast. His parents texted him every night, and he was happy to update them on everything he experienced during the trip. He couldn’t wait to tell them everything he saw, everyone he met during the trip. He remembered being thoroughly exhausted the day after he came back from the trip, remembered the way the room felt just the slightest bit off as the household once full of laughter was silent on that bright morning.

Sapnap was a nosy child. He liked probing into others’ businesses, peeking into the notes his classmate asked him to pass to another person, hiding himself in nooks and crannies while others talk. He was quiet on his feet, so stealthy that he never got caught. He enjoyed knowing a bit more than just gossip from other people. When he saw his mother’s phone lying on the dining table while she was cooking in the kitchen, he couldn’t help but unlock it and started fondling around with it. Text messages are always very interesting to read, he even read back his own texts sometimes, so it would be fun to read some texts!

(If you ask him today, he would regret that day with his entire heart.)

What he saw was out of his expectations. The room started closing in around him as he dropped the phone, screen shattered. The sound led his mother out of the kitchen, and when she saw the phone and what’s still showing on it, Sapnap swore something in her eyes changed forever.

The next time he got his hands on her phone, many months later, it’s passcode locked.

Things escalated quickly afterwards. Sapnap’s father came home later that evening to his wife shouting and crying at her son, and his son shouting and crying at his father. It then ended with Sapnap being shoved into a room, tears streaming down his face. He was expecting a screaming match between his parents, but instead there was silence.

There was only silence.

And nothing but silence afterwards.

In school, teachers told students that marriage is a union between two people who are in love. Sapnap knew his parents were married, and once they were indeed happily married, very much in love.

His mother covered his father’s face on the huge wedding picture in the master bedroom with a paperm the red ink rudely screaming “go to hell”. His mother moved his father’s clothes out shared wadrobes, his father’s pillows into the guest bedroom. His mother told thirteen-year-old Sapnap that his father is a piece of shit and that she only tolerate him because he is human and not an animal. His mother stopped making dinner every night, stopped fetching him to and from his violin lessons on Friday, and his piano lessons on Saturday.

His mother claimed that she doesn’t want to care about the household anymore since his father isn’t thankful for her sacrifices. In late nights, Sapnap stared into space on his bed, wondering if he was worth enough for his mother to care.

In school, teachers told students that if two married people don’t love each other anymore, they get a divorce. Sapnap knew his parents aren’t divorced, because his father doesn’t want to. He learned that to maintain a name up in others’ eyes, his father would withstand taking responsibility of two families at the same time.

The word infidelity sounds so elegant but so utterly disgusting.

His piano classes get paid a bit late sometimes, since his mother refused to pay for it anymore. He got side eyed by his piano teacher sometimes, since his father sent him there late almost every week. He learnt to shut up, to turn blind, no more nosy business, no more gossiping. If he didn’t peek into his mother’s phone in first place, none of the things his parents is doing would’ve happened.

The occasional road trips still happened, but the aircon felt a bit too cold, and Sapnap was almost too afraid to breathe in the car, scared that something will go wrong the moment he opened his mouth and he would end up with one less family member on the way back from a few hundred miles away from home. They’re just a bit less enjoyable now.

He became some sort of word passer between his parents, since they’re unwilling to talk anymore even though they still live under the same roof. Not that they want to be home at the same time, anyway. Sometimes, his mother asked him to tell his father to never come home and go to “that woman and her son” instead. He never told his father those. Sometimes, his father asked him to tell his mother that yelling at him isn’t going to change anything about this current situation. He told his mother those, and get yelled at. He became scared to ask something from his parents because they would just bounce the responsibility between each other until one of them got fed up and did it for him.

Soon, he got tired of being messenger. He fell silent in the house, sticked to his room where his instruments were at, where he would play the piano softly with the practice pedal down in fear of disturbing the tranquility, where he would play the violin loudly to drown out the stillness. Music bounced off his walls, reflecting the silence right back at him.

When he got a full scholarship into music college, he packed his bag and left almost immediately.

The household once filled with warmth and laughter was cold and silent as he stepped out of it.

* * *

“What is love?” Sapnap wondered out loud when he was accompanying with Dream and George, violin on their laps and phone in their hands as they took a water break.

“Baby don’t hurt me,” George immediately replied, while Dream snorted in the response. Settling his phone down on the piano bench, Sapnap played a short excerpt of said song, while the other two broke into small chuckles as he pressed down on the last chord with a fluorish. He waited patiently until the laughter died down.

“Seriously, what exactly is love though?”

“Aww, is Pandas in love?” Dream teased, but froze a bit at how stormy Sapnap’s eyes looked. “Dude, I’m just kidding…” “I know.” He didn’t mean to sound so curt, but that definitely got both of the two friends’ attention. George looked at him, concern clear in his eyes.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking that?” George tried, watching Sapnap’s mouth open and close a few times with no sound escaping him. Dream on the other hand had settled his own violin on the ground and stood up to approach Sapnap. He gently put a hand on his shoulder.

“Sap, I don’t know what has prompted you to ask that question, but whatever it is, we won’t force you to answer it.” Dream said, George nodding in agreement.

“It’s just… I…” Sapnap suddenly felt so fatigued. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the piano keys, creating a dissonance of notes. He put his head into his palms. “I’m just thinking about some stuff.” Dream kept his hand on Sapnap’s shoulder and squeezed it softly.

The air was tense and uncomfortable, the silence lingering thickly. No one said anything until they heard some movement from George. Then a deep breath.

The tune started slowly, unfamiliar but nostalgic. The sweet notes fill the space, dissipating all the tension in the room. Sapnap slowly lifted his head up to face George, who was playing, eyes not leaving Sapnap. He turned to face Dream, who was also nodding encouragingly at him. Shakily, he closed his eyes and let the music fill him.

High notes on the violin usually sounds shrill and melacholic, but in this piece, the notes are high but sweet. Sapnap visualised the fingers gliding on the fingerboard, telling a story. A story that is beautiful, sweet and romantic. He pictured the faraway memories of someone he knew for his entire life, smiling at each other, hands touching each other on a faded red and white picnic mat. He imagined sappy 90’s country songs crackling from the old radio in the car, the sunlight leaking in from the half tinted windows. He could almost see the plastic tray on a table in front of him, and two very gentle smiles directing at nobody but each other. They simultaneously turned to him, and suddenly he’s back to when he was six years old, when nothing but his parents mattered.

It was the small details that Sapnap unconsciously preserved into the depths of his mind, the things no one else would’ve noticed: the miniscule declarations of love through actions. Sapnap couldn’t recall even a single time his parents told each other “I love you”, but it was always there. It was the reason younger him could proudly tell his entire class that he grew up surrounded by love.

The tune ended softly, leaving a peaceful atmosphere in the room, the only thing audible being their breaths. Sapnap slowly opened his eyes, noting that his vision looked a bit blurry at the sides. George was still looking at him, his violin lowered down from his shoulder. “That,” he said, “is what love sounds like to me.”

“That was beautiful,” Sapnap breathed, not trusting his voice much. He turned to Dream, who was discreetly wiping his eyes. He nudged Sapnap to slightly move to the side and when he does, he sat down next to Sapnap on the piano bench. To Sapnap’s surprise, he put his hands on the piano key and began to play.

Sapnap recognised the melody immediately. Heck, every single pianist would’ve learned this piece some time into playing. Dream’s playing was way too slow, sounded a little choppy, and he tripped over some notes, but it’s musically well constructed nevertheless, as expected from a musician like him. He only played a short part before stopping, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“Für Elise was the first and the only song I learned on the piano because my little sister wants me to play together with her.” He explained shyly, earning a small smile from Sapnap. “It’s hard for me to uhh, express my love with anything other than my words, so I figured I would do something for her.”

Sapnap nodded once, then again. Oh, he understood what Dream was trying to say, despite himself not being a very verbally affectionate person. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense.

He understood that despite everything that happened, his parents still care about him very much. After a long practice session cooped up in his room, Sapnap would open the door to his mother holding a glass of water, smiling at him and praising him for his playing. Every time he finished his music lessons and sank into the passenger seat of his father’s car, he would be met with a firm clasp on the shoulder as his father helped him put his violin case to the backseat of the car. Neither of them were vocal with their affection, but it was there. It was always there.

Even after everything that happened, he is still loved.

“Oh and there’s one more piece I can think of!” George chirped suddenly. “And Dream, I need your help here, you know that piece we did for recital two weeks ago…”

“Oh yes!” Dream perched up, leaving Sapnap’s side to grab his violin.

They tuned their violin for a bit, then took a sharp breath together. The music was almost electrical to Sapnap’s ears, so crisp and sharp. He had always known Dream and George have amazing chemistry, but their synchronization was simply other worldly for this particular piece. Sapnap could almost feel his own heart thumping together to the beats of the music. He felt a smile growing on his face involuntarily.

Then, the music took a turn, with less bouncing notes and more long notes. It sounded like two soulmates singing to each other, Sapnap realised with a start. He imagined two people, lovers or not he couldn’t tell, slowly tango-ing across a room. The two violins’ sounds were wrangled in a beautiful knot together, moving in complete harmony. But something felt off- it doesn’t feel like that was what his mind was telling him to think of.

Sapnap saw Dream and George made short eye contact mid playing, then quickly turn away from each other, giggling slightly. The music picks up speed as the duo started doing quick notes and scales. The scene inside his mind changed, as he realised that it’s friendly bantering he was imagining. It was chasing his friends down a school corridor all the way to the lockers, tinkling laughter resounding through the walls. It was rushing to the music club after classes are over, barging through the door to loud instrument sounds and even louder chatter. It was stepping into music university to see two of his best friends smiling at him, welcoming him into their friend group as if they have never been seperated before.

Friendship is also love, Sapnap came to an epiphany. Oh gosh, he is so, so loved. He couldn’t help but let a laugh escape his lips. As George and Dream dragged out the last note, they joined in with the laughter. Sapnap let his tears fall down his cheeks, knowing that those are tears of mirth and clarity. He faintly noticed when George and Dream came over to his side, engulfing him in a huge, warm, comfortable three way hug. He faintly noticed that his laughs turned into half sobs, but the smile somehow never left his face.

It would definitely take some time. But he knew that someday, he would believe in love again.

**Author's Note:**

> Extra:
> 
> “Sapnap that scared us quite a bit to be honest.” 
> 
> “I know, George. It’s rather… uncharacteristic of me to just break down like that.”
> 
> “To cheer you up, let’s have a movie night! Come over to our apartment later, George. We’ll be watching Inside Out!”
> 
> “Really? Isn’t that a special film reserved for a special moment?”
> 
> “Today is a special day, Sapnap. Also, I’ll bring hot chocolate!”
> 
> “Then we cuddle! Big cuddle party for Sappitus Nappitus! The socks are coming off tonight!”
> 
> “DREAM!!”
> 
> ........................
> 
> Classical pieces used in order are:  
> [Salut d' Amour Op. 12](https://youtu.be/ecM7_3rs5gU) by Edward Elgar  
> [Für Elise](https://youtu.be/wfF0zHeU3Zs) by Beethoven  
> [Navarra](https://youtu.be/m3BI7idvxgA) by Sarasate 
> 
> References:  
> Practice pedal, or sostenuto pedal, is the middle pedal on an upright piano. It is used to slightly mute the piano so it's quieter.
> 
> I tried to keep the music terms as minimum as possible because I want people to understand what I'm writing about and it's kind of hard to describe technical stuff such as vibrato and glissando on the violin ><
> 
> The family background is about 90% based off my experience-- I omitted some part of it and dramatized some part of it to make it flow better. I feel bad to say this and this WILL sound wrong but when Sapnap mentioned on a stream that he has a Filipino stepmom, my focus isn't exactly on "Filipino" like most of mcyttwt, but on "stepmom". That's also the reason I based this on him. I feel incredibly bad to have projected this on him and there's no way I can justify this but uhh. It's been almost 6 years. I pushed the trauma to the back of my mind and focused on my studies. Now that I actually have time away from home with less studies, my mind started to involuntarily process the trauma this entire experience gave me. It isn't pretty.
> 
> I'm sorry for ranting but uhh, I'll make sure I don't simply project onto real people again. I don't condone the nsfw stuff people are writing for minors like Tommy and Tubbo to cope with their own trauma, and yet I'm here doing it too, though I don't write nsfw.
> 
> If you read until here, this is my sincere thanks to you <3


End file.
